I’m sitting here in my grey checkered comfy pants and a rad v-neck Hanes t-shirt. I’m listening to Phil Collins’ “Sussudio.” For some reason, I always thought my dad looked a bit like Phil Collins. Or Bill Murray.
I’m sipping Dr. Pepper.
It’s 9:51 PM.
It’s raining outside, and I am periodically looking through the window of my study/soon-to-be-Lex room. I can see the trashy, meth-addled tenants in the building next to mine. I hate that building, but for some reason I leave my blinds open for them to look into mine. I’m wondering if those speed freaks ever see me walking around naked. I do that a lot. Walking around naked, not speed.
Sir Rowdimus Megatron, my faithful canine compadre, is staring at a pair of my shoes as I type this. I am certain he is weighing whether he can get away with eating them. If I catch him eating them, I will kick him in the dick. I can’t kick him in the balls because I had the vet rip those bad boys out last year.
I mean business.
When it comes to nachos.
I didn’t like the song “Atlantis” until I saw this scene in this movie (3:32):
Now I love that song. I also want to own a snub nose pistol. And hang with Joe Pesci. But he has to act like a Mafioso. If he acts like Leo Getz from the Lethal Weapon movies, I will stab him in the throat with a pen, Casino-style.
I was going to write something about this product Jess Glass was discussing today. It is called SkinMedica and is apparently made from HUMAN foreskins or at least foreskin derivatives. I guess women do like dick cream on their face after all. Oprah endorsed it. Don’t get your panties up in a bunch.
I’m jamming to Pandora Radio. I have created a channel called “Sledgehammer Radio.” My wife just yelled, “Are you really listening to that?” She is referring to “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack. “Yes. Yes I am.” I am not ashamed. But now I’m listening to “Angel of Death” on “Slayer Radio.” I love Slayer. My baby, Lex, plans to like Slayer, as well.
Seriously? Foreskin facial cream? What crazy bitch person dermatologist thought of that? Whatever.
My teeth and gums are still hurting. I haven’t been to the dentist in 10 years, and now I am paying the price: My mouth bleeds more than normal. I could probably spit up enough blood to film Kill Bill Volume 3.
It’s still raining outside, and this post is as about as nonsensical as foreskin facial cream.
My Dr. Pepper is gone.
Peace, vatos.
- David C. Garcia,
Ramblin’ man